Counselor of Chippewa Cabin
I STARED AT the unpacked suitcase. I’d gone to the same summer camp in Wisconsin since I was little, and I was set to return for my first year as an actual counselor. Counting down the last days of school before summer break, I was bursting with excitement. Now we were officially free from our studies, but after what had just happened I wasn’t completely sure I wanted to leave the safety of my house and my family in Indiana.
I went downstairs to the kitchen, where my mom was making dinner. “Mom, something happened today. Something really bad.” She sat down with me at the table.
When I’d arrived at school that Friday morning I’d found a note in my locker from a senior boy inviting me to his house for lunch.
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